


Hole in the Wall

by birdcages7



Series: For Life [2]
Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Condoms, Drinking, Fluff and Smut, Glory Hole, M/M, Public Blow Jobs, Public Hand Jobs, Smoking, Wet & Messy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-11
Updated: 2020-08-11
Packaged: 2021-03-06 11:40:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,217
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25848949
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/birdcages7/pseuds/birdcages7
Summary: Usually, Billy didn't come to this side of town. He'd been to this bar once or twice in the couple years since moving away from his forced home, had fun each time, but the campy electro music blasting through the building and making the walls shake wasn’t his style. It wasn’t heavy enough. He could hear himself think over synthy bass notes and there was never ever enough raw drum solos that made his brain rattle. Still, the beer was cold and cheap, and the patrons were always something good to look at.His past visits he’d gotten lucky both times. He was hoping for a repeat of good fortune.***Part Two: First Meeting
Relationships: Billy Hargrove/Steve Harrington
Series: For Life [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1870363
Comments: 19
Kudos: 116





	Hole in the Wall

Usually, Billy didn't come to this side of town. He'd been to this bar once or twice in the couple years since moving away from his forced home, had fun each time, but the campy electro music blasting through the building and making the walls shake wasn’t his style. It wasn’t heavy enough. He could hear himself think over synthy bass notes and there was never ever enough raw drum solos that made his brain rattle. Still, the beer was cold and cheap, and the patrons were always something good to look at.

His past visits he’d gotten lucky both times. He was hoping for a repeat of good fortune.

He’d been taking up a bathroom stall for a good ten minutes, sitting in the cubical and swigging from a beer bottle. It wasn’t really cold anymore, not with the way Billy was holding it at the body and not the neck, but he’d been in the bar for a good hour or so. The world was starting to glimmer and twist in that drunken way, just before the point of no return. The point where good ideas and bad ideas blurred together to just become a story for another time. Drink temperature didn’t matter.

The walls of the cubical were lined with graffiti. Scrawled telephone numbers, meeting times, measurements, promises Billy doubted would ever live up to expectations. He’d picked the stall at the end for a reason, the only reason he was still sitting on the toilet, sipping a beer.

The hole carved out of the thin wood separating the two cubicles.

It had been a long day. Truth be told, it had been a long week. It was Friday, he wanted,  _ needed _ , to blow off steam somehow. And this was a damn sight easier than having to talk to anyone, risk emotions coming out.

Monday had been normal. Tuesday mostly the same. Wednesday news broke the garage might be closing down. The land it was on was worth quite a bit of money now some big city developer had its eye on it. Billy wouldn’t blame his boss for wanting to sell, pack up and retire early, disappear off somewhere in Florida. Be warm for the rest of his life and living in comfort compared to cold bumfuck Indiana. Hell, that’s more of less what Billy was saving for. He’d left home the day after his 18th birthday and never looked back. Well, okay, he  _ occasionally _ called his sister who  _ occasionally _ came over to spend the night at his small apartment, watching movies and negging him about wanting to try smoking.

_ Max, I’m not lettin’ you start smokin’, jesus! _

Billy had done okay at school, never had the desire to go to college. Just needed  _ out _ . He’d always been good with cars and mechanics, physical things, so getting a job at an auto shop was a no brainer. The pay wasn’t great but it was enough. It gave him freedom. Years of being abused still had him angry and twisted up inside, but his boss was great. Short and round and with the thickest accent Billy had ever heard in real life. Carl. He just seemed to  _ get _ Billy and not ask any questions. As long as the work got done Billy was free to do it how he wanted too, was free to take as many smoke breaks as needed, was free to wear his headphones doing oil changes and play metal so loud it felt like his eardrums were going to pop because it drowned out the bad feelings he was still trying to deal with without resorting to violence.

Carl was great. So of course on Thursday, when the rumors were confirmed and it was revealed just how much he’d been offered for the land, Billy was kind of amazed he didn’t just sell then and there. Billy would have. In a heartbeat. Carl was going to give them an answer on Monday, some city boy was coming down to discuss a potential deal. So working Friday was like staring down the barrel of a gun. The writing was on the wall, they were all just waiting for someone to claim the handwriting. It was tough. Billy needed this job, needed any job really, but he doubted he’d get so lucky again. Would probably wind up working some crappy retail position for even less pay, maybe losing his apartment, his little chunk of freedom.

Old Billy would have started a fight by now. Broken some poor sap’s nose without a second thought because it would be something to focus on that wasn’t having his new life slip through his fingers. But that was old Billy. New Billy was getting drunk in a bathroom stall of gay bar situatied off the corner of East St. Clair, waiting for someone who’d want to suck his dick through a hole in the wall.

It was progress, no matter what anyone would say.

Billy had been sat for a good ten minutes though, sipping warm beer and lazily stroking himself through open jeans just to get things started. Another five and he would tap out, finish up himself and drag someone off the dancefloor, maybe disappear out back. He just didn’t want to deal with conversation, not today. There was a high risk of saying too much when he just wanted to get his rocks off and feel something that wasn’t worry.

The music from outside became deafening for a moment, before going back to a dulled muffle. Footsteps squeaked slightly on the wet floor and the door in the next stall closed. Billy took one last swig of beer, dutch courage, and leant back. He wasn’t a stranger to this but it wasn’t exactly something he did frequently. The guy in the next stall wasn’t making a whole lot of noise, whatever he was doing. Billy wiggled his foot in the gap underneath the wall and tapped a couple of times, just to get his attention. Give the signal.

It was a few long, agonsing seconds before a finger appeared through the hole and beckoned.

Billy went from half mast to totally hard so fast it made his head spin. That might have had something to do with the beer too though. He rolled a condom on from his pocket, because bar bathrooms are disgusting enough without the thought of potentially catching something life threatening, and stood in front of the hole. Letting the other guy see what Billy thought was a pretty nice dick. He’d certainly never gotten any complaints. Knees hit the floor on the other side of the wall, light denim just about seen under the gap either side of Billy’s boots. The guy must have long legs. Billy looked down at the hole, didn’t put too much of himself through it. Didn’t like the implication that caused, but couldn’t help but groan when a set of pretty, flushed deep pink, lips wrapped themselves around the head of his cock. The pressure was immediate, and yeah he’d love to feel how wet that mouth was, how warm and inviting, but this was good too. The sensation of being sucked down, almost being pulled until Billy’s hips were flush against the grimy wall littered with numbers and inudeno was enough for now. 

He braced an arm on the wall at head height, rested his forehead on it, and groaned low and quiet at the feeling of a tongue working him over firmly. Rolling and flicking, feeling the little changes in pressure through the latex covering him. Billy let his eyes fall closed, just for a moment, let his worries disappear. This guy was good. Luck had really been on his side for a third time. Billy could feel himself getting sucked down deeper, could feel himself hitting the back of this guy’s throat, especially if the little choked off gag noise through the thin wall was anything to go by. Man, what Billy wouldn’t give to just pull back for a moment, rip the rubber off and let this guy go to town. Find out what that tongue could really do with no restrictions. The thought alone had him panting against someone else’s measurements.  _ 10” by 6” by 5”? Yeah okay. _

Billy wasn’t about to do something that reckless though. He was horny and drunk, not stupid.

Denim clad knees shuffled more on the gross floor either side of Billy’s boots, encroaching more into his stall. They looked like nice jeans, expensive. Billy could tell they were open too, and that was a wild thought. He wondered what this guy had; long, short, fat, thin,  _ curved _ , if he’d want a turn after Billy was done. Billy started to hope that he did. Curiosity and beer was starting to get the best of him. Well, he was balls deep in a glory hole, it technically already had.

No one else had come into the bathroom. The music from outside was still muffled by the door blocking the real world out. In here, nothing existed except the feeling of those lips around his cock and a tongue rolling like waves along his underside. No worries about work, no concerns about the future, just here and now. Maybe that’s why Billy started talking. 

“ _ Fuck _ , yeah baby that’s it. You like doin’ this huh?” 

A small second of panic set in when the pressure disappeared, a soft, wet  _ pop _ bouncing around dirty tiles and dirtier porcelain. The feel of a mouth was quickly replaced by a hand though, keeping up the same rhythm so Billy didn’t have a chance to come down from the high he was reaching. He could feel it, building hot and tight in the base of his stomach and lower, could feel his balls threatening to rise up.

“Mmm I  _ love _ it,” the guy spoke against Billy’s cock. He could feel those lips moving, the vibrations of the hum, a small flick of tongue at the side of his crown. “‘Specially one as nice n’thick as yours.”

Well, if that didn’t just make Billy feel like a damn king.

The urge to see what this guy looked like was growing stronger. He sounded cute, native accent for sure. Billy had grown to be a bit of a sucker for a hometown boy over the years of hearing very little else. Hearing  _ pop _ instead of soda and  _ car-mel _ instead of caramel. The amount of leg on Billy’s side indicated a decent height at least. And he knew about those sinfully pink lips. But that was all. Both the blessing and the curse of a glory hole. A wild image started to form in Billy’s mind, some light haired, pretty little thing, maybe older though with the amount of skill being displayed. Maybe hair speckled with grey. Or someone young, a soft youthful face, fresh out of high school, and innocent eyes but deep secrets to be so good. Green, definitely green. Like the trees around Lake Michigan. 

To be honest it didn’t matter. Not really. Not when those lips returned tight and slow, sinking down down  _ down _ , making Billy lose his damn mind one agonising inch at a time. He could barely see through the hole, hips too close against the stall wall. The curiosity was starting to itch up his spine. He needed to know what a guy this good looked like, wouldn’t be totally satisfied if the guy just up and left afterwards. Billy wasn’t about to chase after him if that’s what he chose to do, but he hoped he wouldn’t. Hoped he would come round and pay a visit even though that wasn’t really what was done.

His fist tightened against the wall, breath becoming ragged as he just listened to the noises coming from the other side. Little moans with a mouth full. A slick slide with every imagined head bob. Feeling a throat attempt to swallow was the final push. Billy came with a short, deep grunt, stars dancing behind his eyes as his knees felt weak. Felt weaker as the guy sucked him through it before letting go and moving back with an exaggerated wet gasp.

“ _ Fuck _ .” His voice sounded wrecked. Billy pulled back, ripped the full condom off and flushed it. Knees disappeared from the gap. The sound of the other stall door opened with a creak. Billy was more than expecting him to just walk out, that was kind of the point of these types of encounters, the anonymity. To his surprise there was a knock at the door. A gentle tap barely heard over the dull thump of music from beyond the bubble Billy was currently floating in. He'd just about managed to tuck himself away and rebutton his jeans before unlocking the door.

The guy that walked in was nothing like Billy was imagining. Wasn’t grey old, wasn’t high school young. Looked the same age as Billy really, maybe a year or two older. A carefully curated mane of brunette hair styled to look effortless but probably took hours. Eyes just as dark from both lust and the dim lighting in the bathroom, but skin pale and marked with moles that looked so sweet and kissable. He had maybe an inch at most on Billy high wise, but he was lean, long limbed. Looked taller than he actually was. His lips were almost bruise red from use. He was gorgeous. Billy hadn’t been expecting that. It caught him off guard to say the least.

“Hi,” he smiled, all cheeks but no dimples. He seemed a bit drunk. So was Billy. He was drunk and very satisfied.

“Hey,” Billy smiled back, trying not to stare at everything that was now on offer. At the fact this guy had just walked around with his jeans still wide open and an incredibly visible bulge trapped inside tight looking blue underwear.

Barely another word was said before they crashed together, less of a kiss and more of a desperate fight for more. More pleasure, more fun, anonymity thrown completely out of the window now. Tongues rolling together almost instantly. The guy tasted like latex and something sweetly tropical. Coconut. Malibu maybe? Billy worked his mass to his advantage and moved them so this handsome native was pushed up into the corner, his wide hand disappearing around the bulge that needed obvious attention. It was hot and twitched at even the smallest amount of contact. Made the man break away with a groan, roll his head back against the stall wall.

The guy felt big. Billy started to wonder through a hazy mind what he'd done to deserve this. He rolled his hand around, palmed firm, fingers outlining a defined shape. Sent the guy squirming in his fancy Adidas sneakers.

“Fuck man,  _ please _ ,” he breathed out, definitely desperate. Billy could work with that. He pulled the waistband of underwear down just enough to send what was trapped inside slapping up against a green striped polo clad stomach.

He was big alright. Big enough Billy wanted to take a step back for a moment and admire it like art on a museum wall. Swollen with desire, head flushed red and almost angry. This whole situation was art now. Some of that modern shit that doesn’t make a lot of sense but causes a  _ feeling _ .

Billy spat on his palm before wrapping his hand around the hard cock taking up space between them. If he literally hadn’t just come less than a few minutes ago Billy would be ready to go again just at the sight alone, add in the weight and the fact he could feel this guy’s  _ pulse _ and it was a little mind blowing. Slender hands found his broad shoulders as he started stroking a fast rhythm, fingers digging into and creaking Billy’s leather jacket. Brunette hair was starting to stick to his pale forehead with sweat, head still thrown back trying to breathe like he was drowning, adams apple bobbing with each gasp and groan as Billy worked every trick he knew.

In reality Billy wanted to drag this guy away, or just turn around and have them fuck in the stall. All sweaty and messy, half dressed and at the risk of being exposed at any time, probably arrested for lude behaviour even though it was kind of the unwritten rule of gay bar bathrooms that stuff like this was going to happen. He wanted to know what this guy felt like buried deep inside him, totally filled up and to just ride those skinny hips to dust. Feel how hot his come was deep in his gut. How hard it would be to walk for the rest of the weekend. How long he would feel dirty and used.

But again, he was drunk and horny. Not stupid. He was going to wash his hands pretty vigorously after this, just in case. He knew that’s not how AIDS happened, but still, years of paranoid propaganda have an affect. For now though he was happy to feel his fingers get slicker as the magnificent cock in his hand started leaking with every well executed thumb sweep and wrist twist. Billy pressed in closer when he could feel it, hear his new friend’s breaths get quicker, every small noise tumbling from those perfect plush lips becoming more and more garbled and nonsensical. Billy pressed his nose up against a rabbit pulse and inhaled. Smelt like cigarettes, honey shampoo and hairspray. He kissed the spot and dragged his bottom teeth up  _ just _ so.

The noise the other guy made as he came was loud. Loud and harsh. Like it had been ripped from his soul. Like he was purposely trying to get people to come in here off the dancefloor and see him come apart. See the sheer amount of mess Billy barely had time to sidestep to avoid getting over his nice shirt as his fist couldn't contain it all. See him go completely boneless against the wall, having it take all of his weight. See him try to gulp down deep amounts of air to try and recover.

Billy knew he was good, didn’t know he was  _ that _ good. Maybe he just got lucky for a fourth time. Or fifth. He’d stopped counting at this point, focused more on cleaning his hand up with toilet paper while they were both still in the stall. There was soap out by the sink. Billy did the gentlemanly thing of tucking the guy away, zipping up his fly, touching him for just a little bit longer. Those slender hands came back and cupped both of Billy’s cheeks, pulled him closer for a kiss that wasn’t like before. It was soft. It felt like it had meaning behind it, more than a thank you at least. Billy melted a little for it, just a little, was still trying to keep up some of his tough guy front somehow even though he felt like this guy could tear down all his walls with a single look. He did let his clean hand reach out and teasingly finger the smallest tuft of chest hair poking free from the polo buttons where none of them were done up. Like rubbing a puppy’s ear and just as soft. He’d been staring at it for a good five minutes, it was only fair. He felt the rumble of a chuckle through his chest before he heard it. It was warm and nice. Friendly. And definitely midwestern. 

The bubble popped when they both had to leave the stall eventually. Other people would want to use the bathroom. They’d been lucky to get the amount of time they did without being interrupted. Billy went straight to wash his hands, his drunken mind taking over now the sheer ache of wanting to get off was gone. Thought about asking the guy for a drink at the bar, maybe at least getting his name. But when Billy looked up he was alone. He didn’t even hear the other guy leave. It was more than a bit disheartening but it was okay, that’s what these types of encounters are. No one meets a potential partner or love of their life at a glory hole. It just doesn’t happen that way. Billy sighed to himself, dried his hands and left the bathroom, slipping into a crowd to enjoy the rest of his night.

*****

Monday rolled around far too quick. Saturday was a complete write off, what with the absolute thumping hangover Billy was suffering from. It rendered him useless and couchbound, except to fetch snacks, water and to answer the door for pizza. Sunday was just an average Sunday. At least he was feeling better for work, stood in his overalls already rolled down to his waist, white tank underneath as a resemblance of some form of decency. Even if he was swearing up a storm trying to take the carburetor out of a 1985 Jeep Wrangler that just wouldn’t fucking budge.

Carl looked pretty pleased walking around his small empire of exactly one auto shop. He was in a suit today, well, almost a suit. He had on dress pants and a clean shirt, and really around anywhere there’s oil and dirt constantly, that is a suit.

Billy tried to forget about the business meeting today, about the potential sale of the auto shop and the consequential loss of his job. And his apartment. The first place that had felt like home since California. He’d finally popped off the troublesome part with a triumphant  _ fucking finally you little bitch _ , when he spotted the guy who was here for the meeting. Billy just froze to the spot.

That hair. Those eyes. That stance and height. The fancy shoes.

No fucking way.

He looked different from the club, taking aside the obvious difference in lighting. His hair was more swept back. His eyes weren’t as blown out but they were still dark, like little pieces of chocolate snapped off a bigger bar. He was in a suit, a very nice, obviously tailored, pleated black affair. Shoes so shiny you could probably see your reflection in them. The slender hand that had held Billy’s cheek quite tenderly was now wrapped around a hard briefcase.

Billy just felt the blood drain out of his face. He didn’t know whether to laugh at such a cruel coincidence or get angry about it. Angry enough to start a fight with this pretty boy and send him away, running back to the city. He slipped his headphones off to around his neck, letting his work tape play against his neck, rolling the broken apart around his hands and keeping his head down pretending to be working, but just listened as Carl came up and shook this guy’s hand.

The guy that Billy had been thinking about all weekend because he was just so otherworldly handsome for the setting in which they met. The guy that he’d wanted to get a drink with but was left alone. The guy who was now about to make him homeless without a second thought.

“Mr Harrington, so glad you could make it.”

“Steve please. Mr Harrington is my father’s name. Shall we?”

Together they went in the back to Carl’s office and Billy let go of the breath he didn’t realise he’d been holding. This wasn’t fair, not in the slightest. He tried to carry on working, tried fitting a new carburetor into the stupid Jeap he’d been asigned that morning, but he couldn’t focus. Could only imagine what was happening behind that door. How many extra zeros were being added to the asking price if this fancy city company wanted it so much they’d send  _ him, _ of all the people in the world, to negotiate for it.

Billy needed a cigarette. Badly. 

He cleaned his hands off on a rag and went out front, already sucking hard on a filter when he clapped eyes on the vehicle this Harrington guy had arrived in.

Of  _ course _ he drove a BMW. Of  _ course _ he fucking did.

Billy kicked at rocks instead of punching things now. Drank faster. Smoked harder. One cigarette became two without a moment’s thought. But that feeling was still inside. The feeling of being, well, abandoned and then made homeless by someone he might have potentially gotten a small amount of feelings for.

It wasn’t fair. The guy drove a beamer and had fancy shoes in all varieties, probably made more in four months than what Billy made in a year at least. He didn’t have to worry about his job being sold for construction; land to build expensive apartments, and gyms with a pool, and a Bennigan’s or a Dave and Busters or both. He didn’t have to worry about making rent each month.

Billy had half a mind to just go in that back office and beg. Get down on his knees and just beg for this stupid little garage to not be sold so he could keep his life as it was. He liked his life now. It wasn’t perfect, it wasn’t California by any stretch, but it was nice. He was free. 

As it transpired, that didn’t need to happen.

Another cigarette down and Billy saw Harrington walk out front, shake Carl’s hand and start towards his car. Billy tried to bite his lip, keep his mouth in check but there was only so much he could contain. Especially after the weekend. Of feeling horrendous and in pain, at remembering being damn near abandoned for nothing. More than nothing. Were his handjobs really that terrible the guy had to just  _ leave _ ?

“When you kickin’ us out then?” He shouted across the short distance. Harrington stopped and turned towards him. It was a few moments before the same realisation Billy had about an hour ago crossed his features. He visibly swallowed before walking over, maybe a shade or two paler somehow, clearly trying to play it cool but he was holding his briefcase handle with both hands, thumbs worrying the seam along the top. He’d probably be playing with the clasps if he could.

“I’m sure you’re gonna find out soon, but, we’re not.”

Okay, that was a bit of a shock. Billy felt the relief flood his system immediately, the fight dying in his gut like a wilting flower left on the windowsill of a house on fire.

“Turns out your boss doesn’t want to sell. At least not for what we’re currently offering. So now I need to go and relay that information to mine.”

“Carl ain’t sellin’?” Billy asked, clarifying. Harrington nodded, his hair bobbing just a little in a dense hairspray hold. Maybe moose too.

“At least not until we offer him double what this land is currently worth. Which I don’t think is gonna happen, so…” The sentence died with a small shrug and just left them both looking at each other, sharing an unspeakable secret.

That’s what Billy thought anyway.

Harrington looked around before talking again, dipping his head down a little, unnecessarily. Billy could smell his cologne on the wind. It was clean and professional. He preferred honey and cigarettes.

“About… Friday…”

Billy leant back on his heels, crossed his arms over his chest. Tough guy front back in play. Even if the man stood in front of him had sucked him off through a hole in a bathroom wall, he wasn’t about to play like that was a fact. It certainly wasn’t anything Billy was ashamed of if they were about to take that road.

“I’m sorry that I just, bailed. I don’t know why I did that.” Harrington finally looked up from the spot he had picked just over Billy’s shoulder and their eyes met properly. It was a moment before Billy let his arms fall to his sides with a shrug, slipped his empty hand into the pocket of his overalls to thumb around his lighter. He felt like that moment where they first met in the same stall. Caught in such a ridiculously handsome gaze. Could feel it turning him soft inside.

“It’s cool. Kinda the point, ain’t it?” Billy took one last drag of his cigarette and flicked the filter towards the street, away from anything flammable. For some reason his heart started beating faster. He could feel it rattling against his ribcage and pulsing strong through his wrists. He still wasn’t about to show it though. It felt like a fight or flight situation, and Billy didn’t fight anymore.

There was another moment of silence. Harrington played with the handle of his briefcase, gently thumbing over the stitching. He was clearly thinking, certainly loud enough for Billy to hear across the two steps of space between them. He certainly took a deep breath before talking again.

“Listen, say no if you want to but, I’m in town ‘till Thursday, if… if you maybe wanted to do anything? An apology for just leaving you like that?”

Billy wanted to ask why he felt so guilty for doing what anyone else would have done. But then, not many would have broken unspoken etiquette just for a handjob. He thought for a moment. Thought about how stupid he’d felt being alone in that bathroom, staring at his own reflection half drunk. About how he’d drunk that stupid feeling away the rest of the night and ended up feeling like death all of Saturday. He didn’t want to feel that way again. But seeing Harrington in his fancy suit, clearly on company time, taking a risk and asking Billy out on a date. In public. In front of everyone he worked with. It was bold and daring. Like coming into his stall. It sparked something.

“The movie theatre on Fifth does half price tickets on Tuesdays? Know where that is?”

Harrington looked a little sheepish as he shook his head, attempted a joke. “Not an expert on this area if it's not up for development I’m afraid.”

“Well, meet me here at six and we can head together?”

“Six. Sure.” Harrington’s whole face lit up in a smile, his nervous fidgeting calmed down. His eyes damn near sparkled. Billy felt his heart lurch into his throat but he still tried to play it down, keep it cool, not give any indication that this was actually pretty exciting. He’d never really been asked out before. Usually he was the one who did the asking. In fact, all of the time he was the one who did the asking. It made him like this guy a little bit more.

Billy glanced back at the auto shop, the Jeep half gutted and awaiting repair before closing time. All the oil and dirt was a stark contrast to the sharp suit in front of him, spotless and perfect. Like he wasn’t really real. Still, Billy held out his hand, skin almost grey from grease barely wiped off before.

“Billy Hargrove.”

Harrington looked at the dirty hand before him before taking it without much of a second thought. His handshake was firm and professional. “Steve Harrington. Tomorrow at six then?”

“Tomorrow at six,” Billy repeated with a little smile. He had no idea what movies were playing, hadn’t had the chance to go recently, but he was excited to find out. 

**Author's Note:**

> [Tumblr page.](https://bird-in-a-cage.tumblr.com/) Come ask me stuff! Headcannons more than welcome!


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